


Vestige

by shinichan43



Series: I messed everything up [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, No Beta, The first two chapters are kinda short, dont worry, i got ocs, i guess this is kind of an au, i might change the title later, jazz isnt the bad guy, not me, the first one is purely OCs and is there for backstory, this follows one of them, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24526066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinichan43/pseuds/shinichan43
Summary: Vestige is captured by an Autobot evil enough to make Astrotrain jealous. Things only get worse from there as her demons and pieces of her past come to light.Unfortunately, she can't tell is this Jazz character is having fun or is actually concerned about her.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl (background) - Relationship, hound/mirage (background)
Series: I messed everything up [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772446
Kudos: 5





	1. Prelude

Being captured was not one of Vestige's favorite things. Being captured with her boyfriend was even less favorable. Being captured by Murder and her operatives was even worse. Honestly, she would have preferred some of the worst the Autobot army had to offer as opposed to this freak of a scientist.

"Nobles, we're about to land. I want you on your best behavior."

In all honesty, only Vestige's carrier was a noble. Vestige was a "half-breed" as her fully blooded noble boyfriend put it. He also said she acted like a pure-blood, so unless informed, it would be nearly impossible to tell. Not like it mattered.

Her parents had given her to Murder when she was a newborn in hopes that she would not have to suffer the tragedies of war. Unfortunately, she did anyway, and she ended up joining the Decepticons as a result. Besides, it's not like they could have known. Murder had a very convincing façade. They didn't know they were handing her off to be a lab rat. They couldn't have. She forgave them for that. They tried and that was all that mattered.

Moonstrike, however, thought differently. Moonstrike had fought her and said that he would never give his child, should he have one, to the likes of Murder. Vestige argued that _he_ wouldn't because _he_ knew. Her parents didn't. Moonstrike dropped the subject, but made it very clear that he still disagreed.

The two prisoners pressed themselves against the walls of their cells as the Autobot ship entered the atmosphere. Murder was meeting some high-ranking officers and quite frankly, Vestige did not want to make their acquaintance. So she prayed.

She prayed that they wouldn't come to meet them. She prayed that they wouldn't come to the brig or that her or her boyfriend were removed from their cells. She prayed that they wouldn't be separated and that these Autobots, no matter how unlikely, had a sense of compassion. 

Vestige held her breath and tried not to cry when Moonstrike told her it was going to be okay; when he told her that should anything happen, she was going to make it. He would make sure of it. Even if he couldn't, she would still make it. She hadn't gotten her position by who he knew or she was, anyway. She had earned it.

The ship landed and Vestige had the sinking feeling that she wasn't going to be leaving this planet for a very long time.


	2. Prologue

"These are the prisoners?"

The mech who asked the question looked almost identical to the Atara's second in command. Blue visor, short stature, audial horns that practically resembled cat ears. It even seemed like they had the exact same body type. He was practically a carbon copy of her.

"Yes." Murder had managed to actually sound concerned when speaking to him, as if the two were going to cause issues for her.

"And they're nobles, ya said?"

"Yes, but I can't get the girl's designation out of either of them."

Vestige and Moonstrike made eye contact. Murder was a sorry liar.

Moonstrike spoke up. "I've been calling her 'Essy' the entire time." He hoped it would prevent further questioning. More questions meant more answers. More answers meant they could find out Vestige was only a half-breed. Vestige being a half-breed and Moonstrike being a pure-blood increased the chances of them being separated. 

The carbon-copy made a face. "'Essy,' huh?"

"Yes." Vestige was very short with her answer. More than one person could play Murder's mind games.

"And what's that short for?" Did he really think Vestige would surrender so easily?

"My designation."

"And what's your designation?"

Vestige shot up and snapped at him. "You have something to call me! Use that like everyone else!"

"Well, this one's definitely a noble. Where'd ya find 'em?" He had begun to address Murder, who immediately answered Sigma-4. Another lie. They hadn't even been near the Sigmas. 

The two Autobots began to walk away from the cells, discussing the prisoners as if the two weren't going to be Murder's latest experiments.

Moonstrike breathed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. This one's short too. The other chapters are longer, I promise.


	3. In Which the Plot is Thrust Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My 'cons are like, super unstable, so be warned. Like, they're unstable in a self-deprecating way. But they are still ridiculously unstable and it's what's making this chapter go.

20%

Five Autobots came to transfer Moonstrike and Vestige current cells to the brig on the on-world base. There was one in particular that seemed to take charge when he entered the room. He was a black and white grounder with wings. 

Two other Autobots grabbed her. They were similar to one another in appearance. One was a vibrant red and the other was a really pretty yellow color. The yellow one was harsher, but it was clear that neither of them wanted anything to do with her.

The two Autobots that grabbed Moonstrike were quite different. One was a muddy green color and the other was black and red. They seemed a whole lot nicer than the two escorting Vestige. She was sure this was her punishment for snapping at the carbon-copy Murder had brought in to see them earlier.

When they exited the ship, Vestige was nearly blinded by the planet's sun. It was no where near that bright on the Ardor. She was yanked forward by the yellow one as her optics adjusted. They appeared to be in a desert. The base she was being brought into looked like it had once been mobile, but had since crashed into the side of a mountain. The metal it was made out of was orange, either from dye or some sort of agent it had a chemical reaction with.

Murder was talking to another winged grounder. He was blue and did not seem to notice the transfer. Maybe he was just desensitized by it. Did this happen often? If she was right and the Autobots on the Ardor were typical, then he wouldn't have a reason to care.

Eventually, they arrived at the brig. It seemed like it took ages to get there, but Moonstrike wasn't twitching with boredom. It couldn't have been nearly as long as it felt. They were placed opposite of each other and no Autobots were left in their view.

After a couple of minutes, Moonstrike asked, "Do you know why they have us next to each other?" Vestige was supposed to know, but she couldn't remember. Why couldn't she remember?

"No."

Moonstrike sighed. "They want us to talk. Captain does this too, remember? She does this before interrogation. Captain says it helps with questions."

Vestige looked down at her hands. Why couldn't she remember? Vestige understood his reasoning, and she was sure she'd been spoken to about this before, but it was escaping her.

Moonstrike sighed again. "That's not good." Had she spoken out loud? Or had she really just looked that confused? She didn't really want to ask.

"What are you on, Es?"

What was she on? She wasn't _on_ anything. Why was he asking her if she was on something? Didn't he trust her? Did he really think she was that far gone? What did he mean by that. _What was she on?_ She- oh. Right, Her fuel level.

"Twenty."

Moonstrike swore violently, causing Vestige to flinch. She wasn't sure why she was so startled, but she was.

She was going to die in that dingy, orange cell. She was sure of it. There was no way she was going to leave that place alive. Was that why Moonstrike had gotten so upset?

19%

Vestige wasn't stupid enough to ask. It would only upset him more and earn comments and questions from whatever Autobot was watching or listening in, Moonstrike tried so hard to take care of her and all this situation had managed to do was upset him. Vestige came to the conclusion that in Moonstrike's mind, he had failed.

Vestige didn't think he had, but how would she convince him of that? He was trying so hard not to break down and cry. He had done his best and helped her so much, This wasn't his fault in the slightest. He had done his best and that was all Vestige could ever ask for.

The entire crew had helped so much. She had been doing better, but reminders had managed to slip into her life again. She had been helped along. Moonstrike never needed to know that. That would be devistating.

18%

Already? How long had she just been _sitting_ there? Her fuel level was dropping quicker than normal, she was sure. It had to be.

She looked up and saw the carbon-copy. The one that murder had brought in to see them like they were caged animals to be picked apart and stared at. He was kneeling on the floor in front of Moonstrike. Was Moonstrike on the floor? Why was Moonstrike on the floor?

Then she heard it. Sobbing. He was sobbing. Why in the Sea of Stars was he crying? She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, if they were even talking at all. Did something happen? She couldn't find it in her to ask, or even make noise at all. That was fine. She was fine with that. She was. 

The carbon-copy turned around to glance at her and they made eye-contact. At least, she thought they did. She always found it difficult to tell with visors.

He decided to ask her a question, "What are ya on now? Eighteen? Nineteen?" Was that why Moonstrike was so upset? Her fuel level?

"Eigh- eighteen. What's wrong with him?" This wasn't right.

"He's worried about ya." He was worried about her? He was having a meltdown because he was worried about her? This wasn't right. Nothing about this situation made any sense. She was hallucinating. She had to be. Or maybe she had crashed and this was some sort of dream her processor created in an attempt to keep her functional. Wait, no. That didn't make any sense... 

Perhaps this was a sick joke and their were Autobots somewhere, watching and laughing. Yes, that seemed very reasonable. This was a joke. Moonstrike wan't having a meltdown, he was hurt. That carbon-copy was making fun of her! She did not like this. She was very upset about this and that stupid Autobot had the audacity to look concerned? 

Vestige looked at the roof.

"Hey, are you alright?" His accent had vanished. Oh, that was cute. He was probably trying to throw her off or get her to look at him. She _was not_ falling for it.

"You're not funny!" Wait, had she just yelled at him again. She probably sounded like she was throwing a temper-tantrum. Well, she wasn't and they were just going to have to deal with that.

"Essy, this isn't a joke." He looked down the hall and shouted at someone in what she assumed was some sort of Cybertronian language. "Look, Ironhide's here with some Energon. Imma need to to refuel."

"What are you going to do if I don't?"

There was a tall, red Autobot standing next to him now. He had a cube of Energon in his hand and was looking at her with- what was that? Pity? Oh no. Absolutely not.

"Well, Ironhide here is gonna take you to the medbay and let Ratchet deal with ya so you don't starve to death."

"Med... bay...?" What the absolute frick was a medbay?

"Medical bay. It's like a little clinic, but out medic does surgery too." It was the red one. Ironhide wasn't it? He turned off the energy barrier between the two parties and set the cube of Energon down on her side.

Vestige did not want to go to the... medbay. She assumed that they meant "infirmary," but she didn't want to test that theory. She slowly made her way to the cube. She reached out, watching them the entire time, then pulled it towards her chest before shuffling back. 

Moonstrike was still crying but not as much. He had calmed down a bit. She swirled the cube, just enough for the Energon to move. It looked normal. She took a small sip. It tasted normal. 

Maybe she should finish it. It wouldn't be so bad. She wouldn't be so low if she did. It wouldn't be a problem. But then again, it might cause a problem later on. Murder would get word. That wouldn't do. But maybe a little bit? She took another sip.

19%

Nineteen was a lot. They were expecting her to drink this entire thing. There was no way. It was so much! So, she stared at it, contemplating.

Someone touched her shoulder.

The two Autobots had moved closer and Moonstrike was sitting up, staring at her. It was Ironhide that had his hand on her shoulder. She figured he was trying to comfort her. He was the one that broke the silence.

"Essy, ya got'ta finish that. I know ya don't wan'ta, but we're gonna have'ta take ya to the medbay if ya don't."

She broke. Vestige collapse forward and had her face resting in her free hand. The starting speaking to each other again in what she assumed was a form of Cybertronian. Then, they turned to Moonstrike.

"Our CMO wants us to bring her to him. You're gonna be alone for a little while." She had no idea which of the Autobots had spoken, but she did catch Moonstrike's response: "Okay. Take care of her for me."

She wasn't sure why, but she started to cry. the two hoisted her up and began to walk her to their medic. They did not restrain her and they let her keep the cube they had given her. At some point, she put the cube in her subspace. They didn't say anything about it. They even let her hide her face as they led her through the halls. She didn't know why.

_Something wasn't right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, look, so I completely rewrote this chapter, and chapters 4-6 (which i had already written) are completely useless now. Like, I had an idea of where this was going, but now I don't and I am sad.  
> It's okay to tell me that it's bad. I know it is..  
> Imma still put it out here anyway.


	4. From Ratchet's Point of View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. This chapter is like super short, but it took me forever to write.  
> Also! If it's too fast-passed, please let me know!

Absolutely nothing had gone wrong.

Prisoners were transferred without any issues. No one was acting like a complete and utter fool.

It was unnerving, to say the least. Something was bound to happen- Ratchet could smell it. So, he waited. When it happened, it would be huge. It would determine the rest of his day, maybe even the rest of his week. It was honestly just a waiting game, and Ratchet could find things to bide his time while he waited. Finally, after what seemed to be an uncomfortable eternity, a message was received from Ironhide.

Ironhide was currently in the brig with the prisoners Murder had brought them. One of the prisoners was having a meltdown and Ironhide had been forced to call Jazz to calm him down. Ironhide had trouble understanding what the prisoner was saying, but Jazz didn't seem to have any issues.

::Uh, Jazz just asked me ta get cube.::

::Why?:: Ratchet was bewildered. Neither prisoner should have needed one at this point in time. Murder was a medic and a good friend of Ratchet's. They had gone to school together. While she was the captain of the Ardor, she was still competent. She wouldn't have allowed the prisoners to be transferred is she knew one of them was low.

Ratchet waited a couple of minutes and Ironhide still had not responded to him.

::Ironhide, what's going on?::

::We're gonna try an' get her ta drink the cube. Jazz already threatened to send her to ya if she didn't.::

That wasn't good. ::Alright. Keep me updated.::

And there it was. The problem. The issue. The tension in the air. One of the prisoners was low.

Ratchet knew the prisoner wasn't going to drink that cube of energon. If they were lucky, she'd sip on it. Ratchet loved his job, but Primus did he hate it. Ratchet _specifically_ dealt with Decepticons- or prisoners in general.

Ratchet couldn't stand captured Decepticons. Rarely were they mentally stable and they always acted in a predictable manner. Most were violent and had to be sedated for anything to be done. If they weren't trying to kill him, they were scared, compliant, and overly polite.

Ratchet opened a comm. to Murder.

::One of the prisoners you transferred to us is low.::

::Pardon?::

::The femme. She's low.::

::Oh! I didn't know about this! Has she been brought to the medbay yet?::

::No.:

::Alright. I'm heading over there.::

::What happened?::

::I don't know. I've had Mercy in charge of the prisoners. I haven't really had any contact with them. I'll have to look into it.::

::Understood.::

Ratchet continued to look for small things to do while awaiting the prisoner. A quick message from Ironhide and an IV was prepped.

Murder walked in on Ratchet cleaning things that didn't need to be cleaned.

"I'm really sorry about this, Ratchet. I didn't know."

Ratchet sighed and turned to her. "I know, but I can't say I'm not disappointed. What's her name?"

Murder looked down with an unreadable look on her face. "We haven't been able to get either of them to tell us."

Ironhide, Jazz, and the prisoner came into the medbay. Ratchet had expected her to at least be awake, but Ironhide was holding her. He slowly made eye contact with Ratchet before giving an explanation: "She fainted on the way here..."

"HOW LOW IS SHE?!" Ratchet was livid to say the least. Even Murder took a step away from him. There was no reason for the prisoner to have fainted from starvation, which was clearly the case. She looked much to thin to stand on her own.

"She said 18% when we asked..."

"Ironhide!" Jazz was attempting to quiet the red mech, which did not seem to be working.

"What?! He's gonna look an see anyway!"

"That's not the point!"

"What?"

"Now he's mad at us!"

Ironhide looked over to Ratchet, who looked as if he was about to kill the two. Murder was slowly moving away.

"Out! Get out! Put her on the berth and get out!"

Ironhide set the unconscious femme on the medberth Ratchet had been pointing to and practically ran out of the room. Ratchet wasted no time attaching the IV and checking her fuel level.

"16%."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"You expect me to believe that! Look at her!"

"I wasn't dealing with the prisoners! This is the fourth time in total that I've seen her!"

"Is it?!"

Ratchet began to run a diagnostic scan. He had come up with three possibilities:

1\. She had just hit 15% and her body reacted the way it was supposed to and shut down in an attempt to conserve energon.

2\. She was already at 16% and the stress of the situation caused her to crash.

3\. Her body was beginning to shut down permanently. This would have caused her to faint without any functions being stopped or slowed down. She could have had an energy level as high as 20% and it still would have drained her to 16% in an attempt to heal the damage starvation had done to her body and keep her alive.

"I saw her when she was captured, when I brought Commander Jazz to see them, during the transfer, and just now. When I brought Commander Jazz there, we weren't in the room very long."

If Ratchet had believed in Primus, he would have prayed for option 1, but Ratchet did not believe in Primus and he did not pray. He ran his test and conveyed the results when they made themselves known.

"Absolutely nothing shut down. Nothing crashed. Nothing lowered in function for recharge. Nothing is running in the background."

"So, she can still hear us?"

"That seems very likely."

"I brought two prisoners here. If this one's dying, what state is the other one in?"

Murder had moved closer to Ratchet. She seemed extremely concerned. "I don't know. I'll have Ironhide bring him here."

::Ironhide.::

::Yeah?::

::Bring the other Decepticon here.::

::Why?::

::Murder and I need to see what condition the other one's in.::

:: Alright. I'm headin' ta the brig now. What happened?::

::You know I can't tell you that.::

::Why not? She's a prisoner.::

::And she's still one of my patients.::

Ratchet heard Ironhide sigh over the comms before responding, ::Understood.::

"Ironhide's on his way with the other prisoner."

"Well, let's just hope he's in better condition than this one."


End file.
